


Not Kidding Around

by StarlightXNightmare



Series: Bendy and the Ink Machine [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Accidentally consuming ink, Anyone have any ideas for that???, Comfort, Fluff, Living Toons AU, Lots of spilled ink, Panic Attack, Sammy isn't a huge prick like usual, Sammy likes to swear a lot, Takes place in my Modern AU that needs a better name than that, Wally and Sammy don't hate each other look at that!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 02:57:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13917927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightXNightmare/pseuds/StarlightXNightmare
Summary: Oddly enough, the ink from the Ink Machine doesn't corrupt people... it does something else much more confusing to everyone's surprise... and poor Sammy and Wally are the ones who found out the hard way.





	Not Kidding Around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gears112](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gears112/gifts).



> This kind of took inspiration from Tiny Studio by Gears112. I'm a huge fan of their work and I wanted to write if Sammy and Wally got turned into kids like in Tiny Studio because of the ink. You should definitely check their story out!

"Be careful!" Sammy snapped at the janitor in an ink stained white shirt and overalls, nearly making him fall in the process. Wally Franks was the poor employee who often got called in most of the time to fix broken pipes, and unfortunately for him, this one was in Sammy Lawrence's office, making it impossible for the easily distracted man to work with the constant sound of ink dripping down from the pipe and into a steadily growing puddle on the floor of his office. He was currently balancing on an unreliable ladder that was certainly not up to safety standards with a hand on the leaking inky pipe above him and a wrench in the other.

"I am!" Wally hissed in annoyance, tottering precariously on the rickety ladder. "It's not my fault you're not holding the ladder in a steady position! The only reason this is taking so long is because you're continuing to distract me and complain!"

"My fault!?" The music director sputtered in shock. "It's your fault you don't have the proper equipment!"

The janitor fumbled with the screw in his ink covered hand, putting it in the empty slot and vainly trying to twist the screw in the slot with his slippery fingers. "Actually, it's Joey's!"

Sammy removed his hands from the ladder and threw them up into the air in exasperation. "It's always Joey's fault!"

Wally felt the ladder shift and he cast a nervous glance down to see what was wrong only to see Sammy was no longer holding the ladder in place. "Sammy! Hold the lad-!"

It was too late.

He let out a panicked yell as the ladder tilted to the side. He threw his arm around the ink pipe, knocking out the screw he was attempting to screw back in as the ladder collapsed onto itself, sending the janitor down with his arm still wrapped tightly around the ink pipe to prevent himself from falling. A loud groan was heard before the ink pipe burst and sent a torrent of black tar like ink gushing out of the now broken pipe. Wally yelled in surprise as the ink poured onto his head and down his body. Sammy loudly, and quite colorfully, cursed as the ink splatters got all over him as well.

"DAMMIT FRANKS!" He howled in rage, his normally sickly pale face scarlet in outrage, a rather large vein bulging unattractively on his forehead.

Wally lost his grip on the pipe as soon as he accidentally sucked down a mouthful of acerbic ink, the foul liquid burning all the way down. He fell several feet and landed hard on his spine and tailbone over the fallen ladder, his mouth automatically flapping open to try and take in a shocked gasp of air only to choke down another lungful of ink.

Meanwhile, Sammy had accidentally sucked down a mouthful of ink or two as well, the acidic taste of ink lingering strongly in his mouth. Loud obscene curses flowed as freely from his mouth as the waterfall of ink above them. His vision swam as his head throbbed painfully. His sense of balance was thrown off-kilter, sending him staggering to the side, his knees buckling under his weight. He collapsed, hitting the ground hard, though he didn't feel any pain. Instead, a tingling sensation akin to pins and needles spread like wildfire throughout his whole body, limbs spasming weakly as he gasped.

This was not normal. Was this some sort of shock his body was going into due to the ink? Was that even possible? He assumed so, otherwise this wouldn't be happening.

Wally barely had enough strength and sense left to roll out of the way of the falling ink. He felt overwhelmingly lethargic and slow. His head felt as if someone had cracked a sledgehammer against his skull and his vision was fading in and out of darkness only to come back extremely blurry and fuzzy. His body had gone completely numb and his limbs were as limp as wet noodles. He gasped and choked on air, feeling panic overtake his common sense.

Aw shit, not now, he silently pleaded with himself, vaguely aware that he was spiraling into a panic attack.

He was 43% sure he was imagining it but he swore he could feel the thick tar like ink writhing around inside him and in his bloodstream. Something was very, very wrong.

His headache doubled as the anxiety growing inside him forced inky bile to rise up in his throat. He vomited up the burning liquid, his nose searing with pain at the stench. He gasped shallowly, his hands shaking violently as he moved them slowly up to his face to wipe away the ink that was dripping into his eyes. He was only vaguely aware of the continuously growing puddle of ink beside him with drops of black spraying his freckled face.

Sammy forced his trembling limbs to obey his orders; he forced them to function properly: his legs shaking under his weight as he compelled them to get him standing again before lurching to the other side of his office. He put his hands on the wheel of the ink pump and strained to turn it, grunting as he effectively shut the ink flow off, leaving his office in a disgusting pool of thick, goopy ink. The smell burned his nose, making his nostrils flare as he covered them with a trembling hand. He turned around, intending to go sit in his chair only to fall back against the ink pump, slamming his aching head into the metal pipe behind him.

Was it just him or had it taken more strength to turn the ink pressure off? Besides the fact that he was weak and had a killer headache, it felt like he had to turn it three times as much to shut the flow off.

Now that the ink had been stopped, he was acutely aware of the ragged breathing he was emitting and the sobbing breaths of Franks interrupted by a retching sound before something liquidy splattered against the floorboards. He closed his eyes, a grimace working its way across his face as he listened to the janitor cry and hurl.

"You okay, Wally?" Sammy asked, genuinely concerned for the younger employee. He had been a frequent witness to his famous panic attacks and still hadn't learned exactly how to calm the stressed boy out. He was really hoping he wouldn't have to; it'd be awkward since this whole mess was his own damn fault anyways and Sammy wasn't too happy with him for this at the moment. HIs worry nearly caused him to miss the fact that his voice was much higher than normal. Nearly. He supposed it was from swallowing a mouthful of ink or two.

Another retch was heard then a low moan before a hiccuping sob.

Ah shit, dammit, fuck, no. He wouldn't do this, he couldn't do this, he didn't know how to do this, he couldn't even deal with his own damn feelings. Dammit Franks pull your shit together, Sammy thought, eyes squeezed shut painfully tight. All it took was another pained whimper from the younger one before Sammy opened his eyes and silently accepted the fact that Franks was completely unable to pull himself together. The state he saw him in was quite unnerving.

Wally was curled in a ball, his knees and forearms on the floor with his hands in his once curly and shaggy brown hair now plastered to his face in a dark mess, pulling and tugging on his hair. Tears fell from his eyes, which were squeezed shut tight, the liquid dripping from his cheeks and into the puddle of ink underneath his head. He was absolutely drenched in ink, his once pale blue denim overalls and white shirt stained black probably forever. But the odd thing was... he looked smaller than normal; nearly a foot or two smaller and practically swimming in the clothes that once hung off his thin frame.

Oh god... did... did the ink shrink him somehow...? Sammy supposes it could be possible seeing as it was the "living" ink that brought Bendy, Boris, Alice, and the Butcher Gang to life and how no one really knew what the ink could do to humans, but this seemed a little ridiculous. Then a horrifying thought came to his mind.

If the ink shrunk Wally... did it... did it shrink him too?

He looked down at his hands, blinking in disbelief at the sight of his normally long, delicate fingers shorter and stubbier and his hands much smaller than they previously were that same day. He was so going to chew Drew out for this one. Crisis aside, he had to go calm Wally down.

He clambered to his feet unsteadily, noting that the room appeared much larger than a few minutes prior. He tottered over to Wally and sunk down to his knees next to the shivering mess, pointedly trying to ignore the ink puddle seeping into his already ruined pants.

"Um... Wally? Uh....." He trailed off, struggling to find the proper words to try and calm the crying janitor down. After a moment of silence on Sammy's part, he settled for placing his hand on Wally's head and patting his head cautiously with a weak "there, there". Wally jolted hard at the touch, his wide tawny eyes flying open and darting to meet Sammy's dark hazel ones. He wasn't sure what happened in that moment their eyes met but the next thing he knew he had his arms full with a small child who had been an adult a mere few minutes before.

Sammy stiffened up immediately, spine snapping upright and muscles tensing. Wally didn't seem to notice though, having already buried his face in Sammy's shirt and wrapped his small arms around his middle.

Contrary to the belief of many, Sammy didn't absolutely hate Wally with every fiber of his being. It was only the first couple of weeks to the first month or two when he truly hated the incompetent janitor. He had yelled at him so many times for losing his keys, moving his radio to clean under it, his clumsiness that made more messes, and forgetting just about everything. After Wally had finally gathered up enough courage to confront him about his terrible behavior and mistreatment was when Sammy realized how hard he had been on the kid. He apologized as sincerely as he could and offered to let the kid sit with him during lunch since Wally had either sat alone or was working through the lunch shift. Sure, he was annoyed by his forgetfulness and klutziness but that was really it. An annoyed Sammy just looked livid by default and, more often than not, Wally just made a mistake that pushed him over the edge after a long day of nothing but mishaps and bad luck.

Those things aside, he was rather good friends with Wally. He doesn't genuinely get upset or yell at the kid too much and Wally actually brings him coffee when he does his rounds. They sit together at lunch with a few others and often meet up outside of work to talk and eat. People merely got the impression that the two didn't get along simply because of their unpleasant encounters while Sammy was stressed out at work. The only thing Sammy didn't really do often with anyone was physical contact and emotions, which was probably why this situation was so foreign to him.

Sammy awkwardly wrapped his arm around Wally and pat him on the back a few times, muttering, "It's... uh... going to be fine..." He cringed at the feeling of so much ink seeping into his clothes and smeared on his skin but didn't make any other movement. He also felt incredibly uncomfortable with someone hugging him; he wasn't quite used to the feeling of someone wanting to hug him either.

The two of them stayed like this for awhile: Wally's arms wrapped tightly around Sammy's middle, enough so that it was hard to breathe, face buried in his chest while Sammy's arms were hesitantly thrown over his shoulders, one hand carding through Wally's inky hair. Wally's shaking seemed to have died down a bit at the physical contact, though his crying certainly didn't. Sammy was internally freaking out, eyes wide and his face set in a permanent grimace as he debated whether or not there was another way to calm Wally down faster. After a moment of silent contemplation he started to hum some song he heard on the radio on his way to work earlier today. It appeared to have been the right call since it had reduced his trembling even more and he seemed to be calming down; he seemed to be grounded more by the sound so Sammy continued humming.

A few minutes after that, Wally's hiccups and sobs slowly died down much to Sammy's relief. A minute or two after that, Wally's tremors evened out, subsiding completely.

He wasn't sure how long afterward it was when Wally sniffled, "I... I-I'm so-sorry." His voice, too, was higher than normal, nearly to the point of squeaking. The sound of his normally already high voice even higher nearly making Sammy laugh.

"For what?" Sammy asked, rather confused with the apology, having completely forgotten his anger with the younger employee. Wally was confused at Sammy's confusion.

"For breaking the ink pipe and making a mess of your office... and for clinging to ya and messing up your clothes."

Sammy paused. It was true Wally apologized for everything, whether it was his fault or not. He carried around the guilt until someone forgave him or reassured him it hadn't been his fault, and sometimes he still carried the guilt even after that. But this one had been his own fault; he had let go of the ladder and Wally had grabbed the ink pipe on instinct to avoid falling. While he had blamed Wally at first for this whole mess, he knew he was only being stubborn and avoiding blame.

He swallowed hard, and with much difficulty said, "No. It isn't your fault. I was the one who let go of the ladder; you only reacted on instinct."

Wally untangled himself from Sammy, looking up at him in disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something, however Sammy beat him to the punch. 

"If this mess is anyone's fault, it's Joey's for not having the proper equipment and not following safety regulations... and speaking of Joey..." Sammy trailed off, his hard, dark hazel eyes narrowing. "He's going to pay for getting us into this one."

**Author's Note:**

> This one took a while to write. I headcanon Wally and Sammy not getting along in the first month or two but becoming friends later on. Sammy may have hated Wally back then but now he's mildly annoyed by his forgetfulness. I also headcanon Wally being more nervous; he'd probably have anxiety or something and stutter a bit.


End file.
